


Dirty Laundry

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, M/M, MarKian, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kian's stuck in the laundry when he gets a phone call from a bored and adventurous Mark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Laundry

Kian emptied his wet clothes into the dryer and pressed the button, listening to the machine begin to whirr and rattle. It was empty in here, the hum of the machine echoing through the silence. He’d come down to wash a few things, having suddenly realised that he’d missed the boat for the laundry and didn’t have any clothes for the next day. Not to mention there was a very dark wine stain on his favourite white shirt that needed getting out immediately.

He sat down, picking up a car magazine someone had left on a seat and flicking through it. He yawned, and scratched his hair, and sighed.

His phone shrilled in the silence, and he jumped, scrabbling for it and dragging it awkwardly out of his pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Kian replied, his voice turning low and intimate. He heard Mark chuckle.

“I love you.”

“Mmm…” Kian sighed affectionately. “So why aren’t you down here keeping me company, then?”

“Because I was clever and did my laundry on time.” Mark countered. “I have shirts and jeans and underwear and socks and hoodies and they’re aaaaaaaaall clean!”

“Fuck you.”

“You can’t. You’re in the laundry. And I’m upstairs, in our room, in bed.” He paused. “Naked.”

Kian laughed. “That’s not a revelation. You were naked when I left, love.”

“But I’m more naked now.” Mark breathed, and Kian giggled at his attempt to sound seductive. Fuck, but Mark was adorable.

“How’s that? Full body wax?”

“Ow! God, no, don’t even say it!” Mark exclaimed. “That’s so wrong!”

“Come on, it could be fun!” Kian joked. “You’d look very pretty.”

“But I thought you liked me hairy…?”

“I do, gorgeous, don’t you worry about that.” There was a brief flash in Kian’s mind of sexy, dark chest hair leading down to a darker arrow, leading to… oh… He grinned goofily to himself, his groin tightening. “I love all your hairy bits.”

“Ye do? Which one’s your favourite?” Mark murmured, making Kian grin.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”

Kian laughed. “Hmmm… well…” He paused, pretending to think. “Your arse.”

Mark gasped, affronted. “My arse is not hairy!”

“I know.” Kian conceded, chuckling. “But it is fucking gorgeous. Now as for your hairy bits…” He sighed, thinking about all the wonderful, sexy hairy places on Mark’s body. “Oh god, I’m spoiled for choice…”

“You just can’t think of one!” Kian giggled at the accusatory tone.

“What about your extra-special hairy bits? I really like them.”

“They’re your favourite, then? So predictable.” Kian could practically hear Mark roll his eyes.

“What, you want me to say ‘armpits’ or something? Cos they’re quite nice too. How about your face when you haven’t shaved? That’s pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?” There was a disbelieving snort.

“Utterly.” Kian confirmed. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing, then?”

“Picking my toenails.” Mark replied promptly. “They’re icky.”

“Icky?”

“Utterly.” Mark giggled, then sighed dramatically. “But, if you must know, before that I was touching myself.”

Kian groaned to himself. Oh, that was so not fair. Especially when combined with the off-putting thought of Mark picking his toenails – he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel. Then Mark made a happy little humming noise in his throat and Kian knew exactly how he felt.

“You were, were you?” He murmured, pressing the phone closer to his ear.

“I was.” Mark breathed in reply, and Kian had a sudden, fleeting image of Mark stretching across the sheets, his back arched, toes curling while his fingers trailed all over his body. God.

“Want to tell me more?”

“Mmm… dunno. You’re in the laundry… it might turn you on too much…”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“You don’t?” Mark purred.

“Not at all.”

“I might not feel comfortable sharing private details about myself over the phone.” Mark said obstinately. “Nice boys don’t do that sort of thing.”

“You are not a nice boy.”

“I am.”

“You aren’t.”

“Why?” Mark’s voice lowered again to that amusingly seductive voice that was always guaranteed to set Kian off into giggles. “Am I a bad boy?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what you are.” Kian grinned.

“Am I… very bad?”

“You are.” Kian deadpanned. “You’re very bad.”

“Do I need to be punished?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do I need to be spanked?”

“Do you want to be spanked?”

“Ooh… yes please!” Kian had to laugh this time – that voice was just too close to Mark’s ‘I want an ice-cream!’ voice, or his ‘Look! Ducks!’ voice.

“Then it’s not much of a punishment is it? Your punishment should be _not_ being spanked.”

“Fine. I’ll spank myself.”

“You do that.” Kian laughed, then his smile faded as he heard something that sounded very much like a solid hand hitting naked flesh, and Mark yelped.

“Are you actually spanking yourself?”

“Yeah.” Mark laughed, a little breathless. “Shall I do it again?”

“Yeah.” Kian breathed, shutting his eyes when he heard the slap of flesh on flesh. He bit his lip. “How’s that?”

“Mmm… good…” This wasn’t Mark’s joking seductive voice now – this was the real thing, the one that made Kian beg and plead, tear off Mark’s clothes, get on his knees. “I wish it was you. I like it when you spank me.”

“I’ve never spanked you.”

“Then you should. You should come right back up here now and spank me. Punish me. God, I want to be punished…” He whimpered, and there was the solid crack of a slap.

Kian groaned, looking over at the dryer. There was still another eleven minutes on the timer, and he rubbed his hand over his face, not sure he could even last the next eleven seconds without running upstairs to spank Mark stupid.

“Babe… oh god…” Kian whispered when Mark whimpered again, and he heard the sheets rustle.

“Ki… god… so good…” There was a delighted yelp and another slap. “Mmm… baby… hurt me…”

“I…I…” Kian swallowed, trying to calm himself, and took a deep breath. “Stop a second. Just for a second.”

“Why?” Mark moaned. “I’m so fucking hard for you…”

“I know. Fuck.” Kian muttered, putting a hand over his own lap and thanking god the hotel Laundromat was deserted at this time of night. He squeezed the rapidly forming bulge, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realised just how turned on he had suddenly become. Ten more minutes. Ten. “I… my clothes are nearly done…”

“No… need you now…” Mark whimpered. “Need you to hurt me… please…”

“Okay. Okay.” Kian murmured, glancing at the dryer again and cursing it. He couldn’t leave his clothes behind – his favourite shirt was in there, and fucking hell if it wasn’t the most expensive item of clothing he owned. Some dickhead would probably wander in and nick it. And he couldn’t take it out – if he left it damp it would never be its old self again. He swallowed slowly, tightening the grip on his groin and stifling a moan.

“Ki…” Mark mumbled, and there was another loud slap, and a harsh, moaning gasp. “Oh…”

“Stop.” Kian whispered. “Just… wait.”

“Spank me…”

“I… tell me what you’re doing. Where are you?”

“Bed. In the bed. I… I’m on all fours… fuck…” Another slap, then another. Then a groan. “Burns… god, it’s like fire… I want you so badly…”

“Stop. Let me do it.” Kian hissed, then caught his voice. “Stop. God, just a second.” He said more clearly, trying to sound commanding even though he felt completely helpless. Mark was… god, incredible.

“Ohhhh…” Then there was silence for a moment, except for both their heavy breathing on either end of the line. “Ki…” Mark whispered. “Please. You’re so hot.”

“You only have to wait seven minutes.” Kian pleaded. “Just seven more.”

“No…” Mark moaned. “No…”

Kian shut his eyes. If he left it too long he knew he’d miss his opportunity. It would go cold, and they’d probably never mention any of this again. The moment would totally pass. He pinched the bridge of his nose and bit his lip.

“Spread your legs wider.” He said, finally. “I want you exposed while I heat up your arse.”

“Yeah…” Mark hissed, and Kian heard movement over crisp cotton sheets, and imagined Mark on all fours, legs spread wide, dark entrance shamelessly vulnerable, his eyes dark and hooded as he stared back at Kian over his shoulder. Wide, innocent eyes. Begging for it.

“Beg.” Kian said. “Make me give it to you. I’m not convinced yet.”

“Ki… oh please…” Mark croaked. “Baby, I want it… I want your hand on me… I need it… I need to be punished… I’ve been so bad…”

”You’ve been fucking shameful.”

“I have! I have…” He whimpered. “You’ve no idea. I deserve this so much. I need to be put in my place.”

“Where is your place?”

“At your feet. On my knees in front of you. My arse in the air. I belong to you… you can do anything you like to me. Anything…”

Kian glanced up. Five more minutes.

“Anything?”

“Yes!” Mark groaned, sounding almost as frustrated as Kian felt. “Anything. Anything you want. Use me…”

“You deserve to be spanked.” Kian said menacingly. “You deserve to be spanked so hard you won’t be able to sit down properly. You need to feel me heating up your arse so you know who you belong to.”

“I belong to you… I’m yours… forever…”

“I think you need reminding.”

“I want reminding.” Mark groaned. “Please…”

“How hard are you? How much do you want it?”

“So hard… so much…” Mark whimpered. “Please… I’m all… I… I’m so hard, Ki… I’m so hard for you. Only for you. I need you so badly… I’m touching myself…”

Four minutes.

Oh, fuck this!

Leaping out of his seat, Kian wrenched open the door of the dryer and scooped out all the clothes in one motion, dropping them into the basket, the phone still held tight to his ear, listening to Mark moan as he stroked himself. The clothes weren’t quite dry, but Kian found he didn’t care in the slightest. Not when he was dashing into the lift, slamming his hand down on the button.

It was the most agonisingly slow trip in history, and he was still feeding instructions to a desperately sexy Mark when he finally exited the lift and dashed along the hallway, the clothes bouncing in the basket while he ran.

“You had better be on your knees.” He murmured finally, before hanging up and jamming his card into the slot. The door swung open, mercifully, on the first try, and he dashed towards the bedroom, dropping the basket and phone on the way and trying to get his jeans off while he moved.

“Marky…” He stopped short, staring at the vision before him. It was the same one he’d seen in his imagination… Mark peering over his shoulder, legs spread wide, exposed. His arse was red on one side, in the unmistakable shape of a handprint. Mark blushed as red as the print on his arse, and Kian stepped forward, gaping, kicking his jeans off and climbing up on the bed, his shirt still on.

“Ki…” Mark whimpered when a hand ran lightly over his arse, reverently stroking the abused areas. “Do you want…?”

“Quiet.” Kian murmured, his tone firm. “Still want it?” He lifted a hand.

“Yes.” Mark nodded, biting his lip, and taking handfuls of blanket. “Please.”

The hand came down hard, the sting of the contact shocking on Kian’s palm. Mark cried out and fell forward onto his elbows, gasping. Kian moaned, running his hand up over Mark’s arse and then back down, tickling at his entrance.

“Kian…” Mark moaned, pushing back, his very hard cock twitching under him, leaking pre-cum. “So good…”

“Want more?”

Mark nodded emphatically, grunting when Kian’s hand came down again, hot from the sharp contact.

“Ki…!”

“Shhh…” Kian whispered, pressing down on Mark’s shoulders until the younger boy’s head was buried in his arms, cheek pressing into the blanket. “So fucking hot.” He lifted his leg, swinging himself over Mark’s back until he was knelt over his waist, staring at Mark’s upraised, reddened arse. He leant forward, kissing the red patches, then, when Mark whimpered, sunk his teeth hard into the soft flesh.

“Kianohmygod…” Mark gasped. “Pleasepleaseplease… oh!” He yelped when Kian’s hand came down again, and again, and again, and then he was coming, cock completely untouched, writhing and crying out under Kian.

“Mark…” Kian whispered, twisting his head to watch the agonisingly beautiful expression on his lover’s face, one of sheer ecstasy. His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth gaping in a silent scream, and then he shuddered to stillness, moaning softly under his breath. Kian smiled, laying down alongside him and taking his hand, ignoring the wet patch he’d just landed in.

“Babe.” He whispered, moving the hand to his own cock and smiling when fingers curled automatically around the length, Mark’s eyes still closed, his body still moving with hard gasps.

“Ki...” Mark moaned, and Kian swallowed it with a kiss, stroking Mark’s beautifully flushed skin as he was tugged to completion. It took barely five seconds, and he was gone, bucking and whimpering in Mark’s grip as he spurted into the younger lad’s hand.

Kian flopped against Mark when he had come, sated and relaxed, yawning slightly against his lover’s shoulder. Mark sighed happily, his arms hooking around Kian’s waist in an unflinchingly comfortable grip.

“You are so fucking hot.” Kian breathed, making Mark giggle, his eyes still closed.

“Didn’t know I had it in me.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you, either.” Kian smiled, in awe of this gorgeous man. “Told you I love your arse.”

“And my hairy bits?” Mark added, then groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Worth it.” Mark smirked weakly. “So worth it.” He cracked one eye open, studying Kian. “Get your laundry done?”

“I don’t know.” Mark laughed, reaching for the buttons of Kian’s shirt and beginning to undo them, stroking the smooth skin beneath when it was discarded.

“Have I shagged your brains out?”

“I don’t know. I certainly can’t think coherently any more.” Kian chuckled, burying his head in Mark’s chest. “You are so bloody beautiful.”

“You are.” Mark whispered, stroking Kian’s cheek while the older boy dozed against his chest. “Can we do that again tomorrow?”

Kian snorted. “Fuck, be prepared to buy a paddle after that performance.”

Mark grinned, filing it away in his memory.

Note to self: buy paddle.


End file.
